


It’s Called: Freefall

by unfriendlyalien



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Depression, Drug Addiction, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicide Attempt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29276742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfriendlyalien/pseuds/unfriendlyalien
Summary: College AUBetween his truant days of high school, the hardcore drug habit he picked up, and  all of the body modifications piled up over the years, Jean Kirstein was lucky enough to manage graduation and with the help of the inheritance his father left behind— last in college for as long as he has.  Nowadays his life is pretty easy— if easy meant failed sobriety tests, nearly flunking the last semester, and now on top of everything else; being forced to swap roommates, leaving him stuck with the freckled persona of the perfect son Jean is sure his mother wished she had birthed. Unfortunately for Jean, this kid is set on forcing himself into the never-ending train wreck of his life, and overtime it becomes increasingly hard to push others away when all you’ve been craving is for someone to notice you. But it’s sad.Because everyone always turns out exactly how they promised they never would.
Relationships: Marco Bott & Jean Kirstein, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. All I Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is a bit slow and I apologize for that. I have a lot planned out for the course of this fic so please bear with me.

A person would think that after two weeks of being evidently ignored that the logical act would be to simply give up trying, and to acknowledge that the chances are extremely high that the person who very clearly has absolutely no interest in communication, has well, —no interest in communication.

And yet for some reason this freckled bastard has made an attempt more than once at conversation with Jean every single day since he was forced to move in with him.

He really is not sure why he hasn’t faltered in his attempts at this point and couldn’t imagine that the kid is desperate for friends. 

One of the worst parts of Jean’s day is the fact that this kid constantly has his friends over and endlessly tries to invite Jean to leave the little comfort of the room that he has to go hang out with them all elsewhere.

He can’t imagine that any person is just truly this nice and outgoing in the manner of trying to befriend anyone, but seriously? What about Jean is screaming ‘approachable’ and ‘friend material’?

The look on the kid’s face when he realized that his new roommate was that one kid with the tattoos and piercings was truly unreadable, but it was very clear that it was an unexpected development.

He introduced himself to Jean as Marco and from that moment forward Jean’s sanity was already heading downhill. 

He isn’t sure what is worse— Marco’s constant disgusting need to be perfect and over-friendly, or his obnoxious friends that come over and bother Jean when they very clearly do not care for his existence in the shared space.

Jean was less than ecstatic to meet Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass, or as Marco introduced them, Connie and Sasha. The first interaction with them went as followed;

“Did your eyebrow ring hurt? Wait, what about your nose ring? Oh wait, what about your sleeve?”, “ Sasha, you totally forgot to ask about all of his earrings!”, “Hold on Connie— OH MY GOD IS THAT A TONGUE RING?”

It soon became very clear that Jean did not and never will have any interest in playing 21 questions, nor did he ever want to spend his evenings with any of Marco’s friend group.

They are probably wondering the same damn thing as to why Marco is continuously trying to disturb their safe bubble by inviting the delinquent to the circle, but with the way Marco speaks Jean can only assume that they are used to his over-friendly mannerisms. He must have simply been raised right or something and is merely overcompensating on the fact that they are roommates when he truly doesn’t owe Jean anything.

The one nice thing about the college campus is that the city is only a short walk away, and all the major conveniences are practically right there. Jean tends to spend his nights hitting up the local bar or grabbing coffee at one of the shitty gas stations nearby. There was a time not too far back that he would be staying at small gatherings every night for other such commodities, but unfortunately those days have come to a halt for the moment. 

He has barely made it 20 feet past the convenient store he had just bought his coffee in when he hears a familiar voice calling his name back down the way. 

“Heeeey! Jean is that you?”

Jean stops in his tracks and lets out a heavy overexaggerated sigh before daring to turn his back to see the newcomer jogging to catch up to him. 

There he is, Marco, nearly staggering over the edge of the sidewalk, his face flushed with a huge dumb grin plastered there. He stops in front of Jean and bends over with his hands on his knees as he struggles to catch his breath. 

Jean is already opening his pack of cigarettes before Marco can begin to speak again. He props it between his lips and lights it casually, his face illuminating as Marco looks up to watch.

“What’re ya doing down here this late?” His roommate questions him with a smile as he stands up straight. 

Jean watches in annoyance as Marco can barely hold himself up and slurs on his words.

He inhales slowly and pulls the cigarette from his mouth before deeply exhaling the smoke. 

“Coffee.” He replies simply, holding the foam cup in front of his body with the other hand. “Anyways, see ya.” He turns away and begins his walk back towards the college dorms, hoping to put a quick end to this encounter.

Unfortunately for him, this does not seem to deter Marco, as usual. He quickly catches up to Jean and walks beside him with a smile on his face.

“Wait, if you’re going back home, why not walk back with me? I just— it’s kinda hard to tell where I’m going, and you know, there are all kinds of weirdos out there and who even knows. And we’re going to the same place, sooo…”

Marco is walking much too close to Jean for comfort but he’s afraid that if he moves away and the kid stumbles in his drunken state and falls, Jean will be responsible for the possibility of helping him stand up, or even worse carrying him all the way back to the dorm. He might even have to make a phone call or get him to the hospital if he really wound up hurt. Any of the possibilities in that situation do not sound appealing, so there is nothing to do but continue to feel uncomfortable and allow for his roommate to stand as close as needed.

“Who said I was going home?” Jean mutters and takes another puff off of his cigarette. He doesn’t even bother to look over at Marco, but knows that he is watching him.

“Oh, well, I didn’t think of that… You see, I was at the bar with my friends and then things got a little bit crazy and the next thing I knew I was out here walking down the sidewalk. I don’t know, maybe I decided to go home and said that I would be fine to make it there myself? And then I saw you up ahead and I was like, ‘Wow, it’s my grumpy roommate!’, And then I ran up to you, and then we started talking, and now it’s only been a few minutes and we’re walking home or to wherever you’re thinking about heading.”

Jean bit his tongue and fights back the urge to say that he knows all of these things because he was there and they are happening in real time, But really, the more he spoke to him the more Marco would speak back, and if he was dead set on following him to wherever he was headed to, it would probably be better to just say nothing and hope that Marco would speak little to none.

Unfortunately the silence only lasted for a few moments before Marco had officially decided that he was in fact somehow invited to join Jean on his walk. He soon began to ask all sorts of questions about where they were going. The questions went along with the frequent statements as to how his feet hurt and occasionally his stomach felt queasy. And this was all within a five minute span to the end of the street they had met on.

“Look, was there somewhere you wanted to go? Or can we actually just go back to the dorms?” Jean stops and turns to look at Marco. 

Marco looks back at him a bit surprised and seems to think about the question for a moment before he smiles warmly. 

“Jean, let’s be friends. I see you every day and I feel like we barely know each other. I just really think that we could be great friends!“

Jean sighs heavily and ashes the rest of his cigarette on the side of a building. It was quiet, void for the occasional cars driving by and the air was a tad chilly for the beginnings of fall. Jean couldn’t understand how he managed to get trapped on this never ending walk with his clingy roommate.

“This is the second time you’ve asked me that, you know. Last week you came home drunk, shook me awake in my own bed where I was sleeping comfortably and tried to convince me that we could become great friends.”

“And what did you say?” Marco looks at him with a confused expression with a hint of hope behind his eyes. 

Jean didn’t understand why he was so determined to be his friend. They were roommates, nothing more, and they had only recently begun to live with each other. Jean sure as hell did not check his name off on some application or anything, it was all part of the terms and agreements of the new regulations set in place after his run-in with the police a few weeks back. He was sure if Marco truly got to know him and all the gruesome details of his life, he would have no interest in entertaining the idea of friends any longer.

“Well, have you seen us act much more like friends than we usually act towards each other?”

“Oh… So I take it you said no?” Marco looks a tad bit hurt at that. More disappointed than ever. 

“I'm not really a making friends kind of guy.”

“Well then, how about we start out slow? Y’know, get to know each other better?”

“This suspiciously sounds exactly like how friends are made.”

“Pleeeease? Will it really hurt that much to just acknowledge my existence and speak with me when we’re at the dorm together? Maybe we can watch a movie here and there and possibly share a drink at times?” Marco looks at him with pleading eyes but Jean only stays silent for a few moments. 

“. . . Yes, it will hurt that much in fact.”

“Jean.”

“Okay, fine, fine, whatever. I’ll make an effort to say hi to you and maybe sit there while you watch some dumb movie. Happy now?” Jean grumbles and turns away, picking up their trek again. 

“Yes! Can we start tonight? I have this awesome movie that-“

“Absolutely not. I think that you have had plenty of drinks and I’m sure that you would never make it through the first 30 minutes of a movie, and neither would I.” Jean takes a large sip from his coffee and heavily debates on having another cigarette for the rest of the walk home. 

“Okay, tomorrow then!”

Jean peers back at him over his shoulder for a moment, watching as Marco smiles brightly, his gaze centered up at the sky.

“It’s so beautiful out here… all the stars…” 

Jean can see Marco’s breath on the cool air as he breathes out the words softly. 

He turns his attention away and stares out at the endless sky above them, shoving his own hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, tomorrow then.”


	2. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, I love them I couldn’t help but post this chapter as well.

The next day classes go by fairly quickly seeing as Jean sleeps through the majority of them. He figures that the actual attendance to his classes looks better on his transcript than him continuously being truant for days on end and completely failing them.

He hasn't been sleeping well the last few weeks, and thanks to Marco he didn’t get home until late last night. It was then that he somehow was roped into getting the freckled brat something to eat and drink before making sure that he didn’t choke on his vomit after he went to bed.

Jean is hoping that Marco would have long forgotten about their conversation from the night prior but as always, he is poorly mistaken.

When he returns to his dorm Marco is laid back on the couch reading a book. 

He looks up at Jean with a smile and it takes everything in him not to flee the scene then and there. 

“Hey! Classes go alright?” Marco sets the book into his lap and looks at Jean expectantly.

It’s an innocent question and yet for some reason it feels like a hardship to answer. 

“Went fine.” He answers simply, shutting the door behind him and heading across to the room to lay in his bed.

“That’s good! Any plans for the day?” Marco turns to watch him but Jean does not oblige the same.

“If you're about to ask me to watch a movie with you the answer is no. I’m giving a rain check to movie night.” Jean sighs and flops down onto his unmade bed, rolling over to suffocate his face into the pillows.

“Oh, well… I suppose we could do something you want to do?”

Jean tries hard to think back on their previous conversation and whether or not he had actually made definite plans with Marco, or if he was again just being nice. Unfortunately, Jean’s memory is something that has not been useful for a few years now so it’s hard to recall. He figures however, that maybe if he finally hangs out with the kid that he would stop asking him so often.

That, or he would be so disgusted with Jean’s true nature that he would finally understand that he did not actually want to be his friend and is grossly misled. 

Jean did not have friends. He had people he partied with and people he nicked drugs with. There really was no inbetween.

“Whatever, if you are that dead set on hanging out, then I suppose I can come up with something that isn’t incredibly boring.“ He rolls over to face Marcos' direction. The freckled brat does not even try to contain his excitement, a feeling that Jean cannot imagine why he is having to such a degree.

“Really? Great! Just let me know when and where you want to go.“

“Now. We’re going into town“ Jean rolls himself out of bed and stands up before rummaging around their shared living space to find a bag that he swings over his shoulder.

“Oh, okay!” Marco stands up quickly, visibly flustered at the sudden decision to leave as he begins to fumble around the room for a jacket and apparently, a scarf and mittens.

Fall seemingly set in today as the air is far cooler than it had been in the previous days. Many of the leaves have already fallen off of the trees and the sun is rarely seen nowadays.

They head soundlessly out of the dorm and through the college campus to the main road that would lead them down into the city. It’s a short walk of about 10 minutes and Jean is pleasantly surprised at Marcos' silent nature today.

He occasionally glances behind him to make sure that the other boy is still following and catches him either staring aimlessly at the sky or looking out into the endless streets beyond.

Once the city is finally in sight Marco speaks up.

“So, what did you have in mind for us to do?“

“Oh, you know, simple robbery should probably do it.”

Jean was not expecting for Marco to laugh at that. He had to stop, turn around, and stare him dead in the face for quite some time before Marco finally caught on.

“Hold on, you’re looking at me right now as if I have 10 heads. You weren’t serious, were you?“ Marco stares back at him questioningly as Jean watches the soft air bellow from his mouth at the cool air when he speaks.

“Of course I was being serious. If you don’t want in, that’s fine. Have a boring go at your day then without me.“ Jean turns and begins to walk away when he hears Marco step towards him.

“Wait, don’t get so offended! I mean, anyone would be caught off guard by that. You're offering that we pull a robbery for chrissake!“

“I don’t mean like, an actual heist, Freckled Jesus. I mean we go to a gas station, pretend like we have a weapon and take some easy cash register money.“

“You do know that I’m on the Dean’s list right? And it’s not like either one of us have unrecognizable faces.“

“Are those the only cons that you have for this ordeal? Because to me it kind of sounds like if it weren’t for your reputation you would almost consider this.“

“Jean.”

“Okay, fine. I wasn’t being all that serious. Baby steps, baby steps. Maybe one day someone out there will pull a Bonnie and Clyde with me. For now we can pop your thievery cherry. I doubt you’ve ever stolen anything in your entire life.“

“Hey! One time when I was a kid I snagged a Batman toy from a store that I really wanted and my mom had said I couldn’t have it.“

“... And then what happened?”

“... I was overridden with guilt and I confessed to my mom and we brought it back to the store. I had cried for days on end afterwards.”

Jean sighs and shakes his head.

“Tsk tsk. Well, how about we step up your game, head to that local gas station and steal some Red Bull and beer?”

“If I'm going to further purge my good karma then we might as well take it a little higher than a gas station and energy drinks.“ Marco grumbles and Jean is a bit surprised at that.

“Well then, pardon me. I didn’t realize that you took stealing all that serious. If that’s how you really feel then I have a certain place just in mind for this.“

“ And where would that be?“

-

“When you said you had a certain place in mind Jean, I really did not have any expectations. But I will say that my expectations that did not exist did not involve Sephora.”

“I’m not sure why you’re complaining, this is a high quality brand!” Jean whispers as they walk casually side by side, browsing the aisles.

They had come up with a game plan together on their way there that involved Marco chatting up one of the sales ladies while Jean pocketed the goods. It was a pretty simple plan that utilized Marcos skills of being a chatterbox while also weaponizing the charm that Jean would deny Marco truly possessed.

“Just don’t fuck it up, got it? I have enough rep with the pigs around here as it is.”

Jean knew that Marco was about to ask what he meant by that but then quickly thought better of it. Jean nods toward the associate in the upcoming aisle and Marco gives him a nervous look before he walks up to her.

Jean then makes his way to the other side of the aisle and begins scanning through the items as he listens to Marco speak with the young lady.

He overhears him conversing about how he needed help picking out makeup for his mothers birthday. Truly, Jean is a bit of a klepto and is a natural thief that could do this any day without Marco’s help. But the experience didn’t make it any less fun.

He listens on as he casually slips small items into the sleeves of his jacket and even bends down to fix the laces on one of his combat boots after slipping another item into the inside surface. 

He turns and begins walking down the aisle to make sure that no one had been watching before he slips around to the other side to watch Marco’s conversation with the sales woman continue.

He can’t make out what they are saying at this point, but it is not hard to tell that Marco is flirting with her. He is breaking out all of his charming smiles and clearly some kind of cliché attempt while she laughs shyly before he offers a wave and leaves her side to exit the store.

Jean makes a point of smiling at her as he passes by before making his own exit and catches up with Marco around the corner as they had planned.

“Wow, I got really nervous at first! But then the conversation with her came naturally and I almost forgot what we were actually doing in there in the first place!“ Marco grins hugely at Jean, clearly proud of the work he has done in the store.

“Yes, I saw that you were readily making rounds with her. Did you get her number while you were at it?“ Jean teases as he begins to walk down the street with Marco following closely behind. He made a good score in the store but was not about to reveal it until they made their way back to the dorm.

“No, she wasn’t really my type.“

“Oh yeah? but she was so perky and bubbly. I kind of figured you’d be into a girl like that.” Jean muses, pulling out a cigarette and propping it between his lips.

“Well, my type isn’t really girls, so…”

“Oh.”

— Was the only response Jean could really come up with as he lit the cigarette between his lips and inhaled sharply before pulling it out and exhaling the smoke.

Marco did not respond to that and it was then that Jean realizes how he may be looking in this scenario.

“Wait, I don’t have a problem with you being gay if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m all for that pro homo shit and rainbows and all that. More props to you.” He fumbles on his words as he clumsily shoves the lighter back into his pocket.

The tension should’ve left him as Marco laughs at that statement, and yet it somehow irritates him but he does not understand why.

“Nah, it’s cool. We’re just starting to get to know each other and that was a pretty big thing to drop on you. I didn’t think that you were homophobic or anything like that. It’s no worries.” Marco shrugs lightly and looks away. 

Jean runs his fingers through his hair a bit and continues to walk on, looking over his shoulder for a moment at Marco.

“So, is that Connie kid your type?“

He isn’t sure why he is continuing with this conversation but it was almost like word vomit. 

“Hmm— no. Not to say that we haven’t had a good drunk bro make out here and there. He’s pretty comfortable in his masculinity if you know what I mean. But he’s more into Sasha.”

“ I guess that would make sense. Just as long as I don’t see you with that Yeager bitch sucking tongues in our dorm, then I don’t care what you do.“

“Don’t worry, I do not have a thing for Eren.” 

Jean can feel Marco rolling his eyes as he makes the statement, but he is in no way joking about this matter.

Eren Yeager is the epitome of worthless trash, though it would be an insult to trash to say the least. He is unfortunately, one of Marco‘s good friends so Jean has seen him way more often than he would like. For some reason this kid awakes a newfound rage within him and the feeling is completely mutual.

He’s like an arch nemesis and they were destined to hate each other. The thought of walking in on those two canoodling in their shared living space is enough to make Jean want to jump into oncoming traffic. That would be what would finally send him over the edge.

Marco decided to ease the tension between the two for the rest of their walk by asking Jean a few simple questions. He asked if he had always lived in Trost and what he was majoring in— that to which Jean did not have an answer for. He really had no idea what he was doing in school at all. The only reason he was attending college was to appease his mother to show that he was not a worthless degenerate of society and could actually make something of himself. His mom was surely to be disappointed come the future, but it wasn’t as if Jean had made the truth any less noticeable.

It didn’t take long for them to return to their dorm and Jean was quick to sit on his bed and dump out all of their hard earned findings. 

He beckons for Marco to come sit across from him and it is clear that he is awestruck by the amount of product Jean was able to hide within his clothing.

“Holy shit! This is hundreds of dollars worth of makeup! I don’t understand, where did you even hide all of this?“

“That can be the next lesson.“ Jean smirks and tears open a box with an eyeshadow palette inside. He flips open the small plastic case and picks up a makeup brush.

“Now, have you ever wanted to look really cool, and I mean like, early 2000s pop punk band cool?“

“I think you’re speaking to edgy middle school me. He wore a lot of black and cried alone in his room way more than he should have.” Marco chuckles softly and scratches at the back of his head.

“Then you know exactly what I’m talking about. So just say fuck it and lets do this.“ Jean gestures towards Marco‘s face.

Marco doesn’t even question further as to why Jean had wanted to steal makeup and give him a pop punk makeover. He just goes along with it and sits still while he gives him the signature black and red messy eyeshadow look with a touch of black eyeliner.

He is in the middle of finishing up his right eye when Marco speaks up again.

“So earlier, you mentioned something about a run-in with the police?“

Jean figured it would be a matter of time before this topic was brought up again.

“ Yeah… A couple weeks ago I was at this small house party that totally got busted. They brought us all to holding because there were like, major drugs in the vicinity and everyone was pretty high out of their minds. Basically everybody got in hella trouble and the only reason I was able to get away with it was because my mom was able to like, use money and power, you know, capitalism and all that. But anyways, there were some terms and agreements to not only my release but to my stay here at the college and that’s actually why I was moved to be your roommate. I heard that your roommate dropped out, and as you said you are on the Dean’s list so they figured that placing me in here with you would hopefully rub some of your good influence on me or something.“

Jean finishes up with Marco’s look and sets the eyeliner down on the bed. He then holds up a small hand mirror for Marco to see.

Marco takes the mirror and smiles softly at his reflection before looking back to Jean. 

“My Chemical Romance would be proud.“

“Damn straight they would be“ Jean grins and leans back against his pillow, his arms behind his head.

“You said that you were all caught doing drugs?“ Marco looks at him again, pressing the topic further.

“Yeah, that would be me, lil old druggie. But please, we don’t have to make a thing about this or talk about it at all.” Jean mumbles, rubbing his temple softly.

“I'm confused. Is this why you don’t think that you’re friend material, or?“

“I'm not friend material for a lot of reasons, and this is just one of them.“ Jean remarks, closing his eyes.

“I just don’t see how that is a good reason. You know we all smoke weed right? And we all drink, and Connie and Sasha like to experiment with psychedelics here and there.“

“It is 100% nothing like your little green buds and mushrooms.“

“But still, this doesn’t stop me from wanting to be your friend. You’re the one that’s making it more difficult than it needs to be.“

“Jesus, you sound like my mother.” Jean snorts and doesn’t bother to open his eyes as he knows Marco is likely staring directly at him.

“Can’t you just try?“

“This is now the third time that you’ve asked me to be your friend. What is your obsession? Why do you want to be my friend so badly?“

“Because whatever this front is, it’s not you. There’s more to you than just the arrogant little prick that you’re showing.“ 

“What, now you’re psychoanalyzing me? I went to therapy once before and it proved to be very inefficient and unsuccessful.“

“I went to therapy as well, and you are using reverse psychological tactics against me.“

“Well, then I believe we are at a stalemate.” Jean huffs stubbornly. 

“Jean.”

“Goddamnit Marco! I will work on trying to be your friend! Happy now?”

“Yes, good Lord, was that so difficult?”

“Yes, actually, it was.” Jean opens his eyes to see Marco smiling at him. It’s a genuine smile at that, not that his smiles ever aren’t. 

The thing is, Marco doesn’t actually get under his skin in the way that he projects, and that itself is what truly gets under his skin.

The revelation is annoying as hell and it would probably take Jean a lifetime of drugged out spiritual awakenings to completely understand why.

“Are you going to do my makeup now or not? I didn’t realize this was the one man band.“ Jean crosses his legs and grumbles.

“Sorry! We were kind of having a moment there.”

Marco laughs and digs through the pile of makeup as he searches for what he believes to be the right fit for Jean. Jean simply sits there patiently, unmoving as Marco applies it to his face.

In some situations the act would seem almost intimate.

This was not one of those moments. 

However, when Jean finally opens his eyes to watch as Marco delicately brushes the powder along his face, he can’t help but feel as though this is one of those important memories that he would take for granted later on in life. 

Something so simple and yet so major.

It was like the moment the night before when he watched as Marco stared up at the stars, as if there was nothing else in the universe but him and the sky.


	3. A Hard Recollection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a bit of referenced trauma, be warned!

As the days pass by, life is becoming increasingly difficult for Jean.

He is undoubtedly more agitated, if that is even possible, and he is constantly living in panic mode. He isn’t sure how much longer he can go without having a complete mental breakdown and he really does not want to find out. 

This is not the first time he has gone sober and it likely will not be the last. Of course, technically following the definition of sobriety, some would argue that he is not. But a few xannies never hurt anyone, right? They are prescribed by doctors and all, just not his own doctor nor is it his prescription. 

How the hell else is he supposed to get by in a world full of idiots? He is going through a pack of cigarettes a day and it is pretty hard to just ignore all of the little drug parties that were going on around campus the past few weeks.

“You were saying, Jean?”

Jean looks up from where he is seated within a small group of people in the midst of a glum shabby room. This was what— his fifth meeting now at NA? Or maybe it was his fourth. He would likely never remember the host’s name or anyone else's for that matter.

“I don’t know, what do you want me to say? I have a lot of stories.” He shrugs lightly, uncaring for anything that is happening at this meeting. He is surrounded by junkie after junkie, all bullshitting and spewing the same sappy story.

“Why don’t you take us to the beginning. You have yet to share any of your experiences here, and seeing as this group is a part of your court order it is a requirement to participate.” The host speaker looks at him calmly, crossing his legs. 

Jean sighs and slouches back in his chair, tapping his foot anxiously on the ground. He avoids eye contact with everyone in the room that is not actively gittering around from withdrawal. He can’t stand the way they are boring their dead eyes onto him like vultures circling a piece of prey. 

“I don’t really see how talking about this is going to make a difference, but fine.”

He grew up in a rather wealthy household, his father being a well-known lawyer and his mother a businesswoman. He would be lying if he said that he did not have a more spoiled and cushy life than others and it was something that he certainly took for granted as a child. Coming from such a prestigious background there were some pretty high expectations practically set down at birth in Jean’s own opinion.

Unfortunately, the easy life as Jean knew it came to a halt at the sudden death of his father during elementary school. The event was something that took a huge toll on his mother and in the following months she became practically unresponsive and fell apart.

Evidently, mental illness ran in the family along with alcoholism and the trauma was just too much for his mother to bear.

In the wake of his mother’s breakdown, it was thought to be in Jean’s best interest to have him stay with an aunt and uncle for the time being.

It was there that Jean somehow experienced trauma even worse than what he had already been dealing with, and the events that took place were something that he would never fully understand for many years to come.

Months later when his mother had finally become complacent on medication and with the work of a therapist, Jean was able to return home at his mother’s wishes. Unfortunately with everything that had happened, a rift had been created between him and her; one that would follow deeply into his preteen years and truly awaken during high school.

Jean was 10 years old when he nicked his first cigarette from his mom’s purse, and 11 when he began to raid her liquor cabinet.

Shortly after he began to act out in school and was consistently involved in confrontations and fights among other students as well as teachers. His grades dropped and his attitude became something terrible to witness.

At 12 he began to see his first psychiatrist who deemed that he was suffering from bipolar disorder, PTSD and a generalized anxiety disorder. He was quickly placed onto medications that sucked all the energy from him and left him a mindless zombie.

Numb to the world, Jean began to hang out with the older kids at school whose parents were constantly away on business trips and left them with little to no supervision with their doped up nannies.

When he was 13 he tried marijuana for the first time, 14 when he began taking non-prescription medications and over-the-counter pills, and 15 when he had finally realized the trauma that had happened at his relatives home years prior. The revelation resulted in a major mental breakdown.

From there his personality became much more impulsive and he grew to further hate his life and himself.

It was fairly easy to hide the scars of the cigarette burns on his skin, and when he began to do cocaine there wasn’t even a need to compose himself in front of his mother or other people. He was in such a state of constantly being drugged out and high that his normal behavior was that of while on drugs, whereas if he ever was not using would be when he would have to act differently in front of others. 

He often went to small hang out groups to pop pills and do lines, barely even smoking green at that point in time. He constantly lied to everyone, and most of the time there was not even an actual reason for it. He stole from others and continued to get into fights without his mother knowing. It wasn’t until he was 16 when he had tried something harder than he had ever done before.

Fentanyl.

Honestly, it’s a wonder that he is still alive to this day.

He didn’t come home until late the next day and he was all kinds of fucked up. It was the most intense high he had ever experienced and it was something he craved for in his daily life. He remembered laying on the couch in someone’s basement and all of his troubles dissipated into thin air. The risk of death honestly sat far better with him than it should have.

His mother was completely distraught when he had finally arrived home and it was absolutely no secret that he was completely drugged up— still feeling the effects into the following day.

He remembers the look on his mother’s face as he staggered up the front lawn, barely even able to get out the word, ‘Hello’.

He had never seen his mother cry so hard before. Not even at the death of his father. But he supposes now it was because the pain of losing her son to addiction only added so much onto the loss that she had already been through.

The worst part of it all is that Jean never once felt guilty for doing the drugs. The only guilt he felt was that he was hurting his mother, and yet that still was not enough of a reason for him to abandon the highs he seeked. 

When his psychiatrist asked him why it was that he felt the need to abuse drugs and did not feel any guilt, the answer was quite simple.

He had already hit rock bottom.

What he had gone through at his uncle's house as a child was something far worse than death itself. Life could literally not get any worse for him and so there was absolutely no reason for him to stop doing what he was doing.

It was then decided that he would attend AA and NA on a weekly basis. He had secretly stopped taking his prescription medications long prior and as a result his mother had begun to watch him every day to make sure that he was taking them as required. 

Due to the intervention, Jean managed to scrape by and graduate highschool and earn his one year sober chip at both AA and NA.

He can clearly picture the proud look on his mother’s face as she cried tears of joy at the announcement that he was officially one year sober. 

That night to celebrate he went out with a few friends where he ended up trying ecstasy for the first time along with doing a few lines of cocaine.

His mother never knew— just like she never knew that when he handed her the chip, he was not even one day sober and he hadn’t been, going all the way back to when he had first begun the meetings.

But the look on his mothers face was one of the happiest he had seen in a while and Jean was very pleased to be able to give her that. 

To make sure that he continued on the straight and narrow, his mother advised Jean to attend college and he obliged in an effort to keep her happy, and to hide her from the knowledge that he was still a raging drug addict. 

He didn’t actually begin attending school until about a year ago when he was 20. The two years in between, Jean had basically spent all of his days crashing in strangers basements and couch hopping at different dealer’s houses. He still technically lived at home, he was just always attending parties and getting high elsewhere. His mother had taken a sabbatical and he was under a watchful eye if he spent too much time idling around in her presence.

In her eyes he was a success story, with his medication working and his mental state seemingly being intact he was relinquished from further seeing his psychiatrist and was kept on a steady dose of mood stabilizers that he of course— abused.

It's crazy to think how much parents are truly blinded by when they don’t want to see the actual truth.

Over the course of his first year in college he managed to get by with doing the bare minimum so that it would look like he at least put in some kind of effort to his mother and would not get immediately expelled. That would be no fun considering the amount of easy drugs floating around the college campus.

Any free time that Jean had he spent at parties, the bar, drinking, and doing drugs. 

He had lost himself so many years ago and he truly believes that there is no coming back. There have been a few times in the course of his life that he has tried to become sober and not once did it stick.

He will manage quitting cold turkey for a few days with the help of cigarette after cigarette and it honestly does not go too terribly. That is, until the realization hits that there is nothing to cope with in any sort of inconvenience in his life.

And then it becomes clear that with or without going through withdrawal, he is completely miserable, depressed and truthfully, suicidal when he is not experiencing any sort of high. And then when he gives in and at the end of the week, he feels just as shitty as he had without being high. But he figures that without the high he feels worse, and anything to ease the pain just tad bit is enough to satisfy him.

If he is already going to be sad, he might as well be dazed and confused while going through it.

As he said, it’s not like life could get any worse.

He does not want to get sober. He just wants to be numb to the world.

He wants to forget how filthy and unclean he is, and how broken and disgusting this sinful world truly is.

When he was caught at the house party a few weeks prior, everyone else there had been doing crack and heroin— something that Jean was not a part of. But that did not mean he wasn’t doing his own usual thing.

He didn’t have to participate in AA this time as a part of his court order because funnily enough, there was no alcohol in his system at the time of his arrest. Lucky him.

He was really hoping that failing college would be the next disappointment for his mother, over the knowledge that he had still been using after all of these years. He’d never seen anyone look so disappointed and broken before. Broken over the actions of someone else at that.

He thought back to how skinny he had become after high school. Between the constant abuse of drugs and the echoing lack of appetite they caused to go along with the after effects of feeling ill when trying to eat anything— he had practically developed an eating disorder and had become increasingly skinny and almost sickly looking.

How had she not noticed then?

How had she not noticed any of the signs?

He figured that she must have not wanted to see them if anything.

Nonetheless, he was brought back to square one and was being forced to once again participate in the hopes of getting sober.

This time however, he does not have a friend to falsify piss samples so the past few weeks he actually has not done any hard-core drugs.

He has not even taken any party pills and is simply sticking to antidepressants and mood stabilizers.

Of course these are not enough for him and are not actually getting him high. As stated in the name, they are simply stabilizing his mood and temporarily numbing him for a bit.

Unfortunately, this only goes a little ways as his body is tolerant to almost anything that comes in a capsule after the hard abuse over many years and Jean can feel that he’s going to more than likely break any day now.

This is probably the longest he has ever been sober before he began to experiment in his youth and it is heavily taking a toll on his mentality.

How does Marco do it? He can’t fathom all of the hard work and dedication that Marco puts into school and his personal life without the assistance of anything but a little bit of weed here and there.

“And that’s it. That’s my story I guess.“

Of course Jean did not tell that entire long spiel of a sob story to this bunch of tweakers.

He gave them some bullshit lies about how college has been really stressing him out the past few months and that he had been taking the tension out by doing a lot of molly and smoking pot at parties. It’s not like they’ll know if it’s a true story or not. It doesn’t really make a difference in his eyes.

The reaction from the crowd is mediocre at best and Jean doesn’t listen to whatever it is the speaker of the meeting has to say in response. It feels like an eternity has gone by at this meeting and he is just ready to go back to the dorm already.

The NA meeting wraps up shortly afterwards and Jean is practically running back to his dorm, puffing on a cigarette between breaths. 

When he returns to his dorm, he almost believes that he somehow walked into an ongoing class. Though classes had already passed, and it was most definitely his room that he entered.

Sasha and Connie were sat on the floor talking in what Jean could only assume to be gibberish while practically destroying a bag of chips.

Christa sat by idly braiding Armin’s hair and Jean had to hold his breath before realizing that for once, punkass Yeager isn’t with him.

Mikasa is sitting quietly at the couch, reading a novel and Jean almost isn’t sure if Marco is even present before he catches him laying back on his bed. 

He rubs his face in complete irritation before finally stepping inside the room.

The air inside is heavy with the scent of pot and it is very clearly a bit smokey upon entering. Jean had noticed the fire alarm shoved in a drawer when he first moved in and Marco explained that his friend Ymir had taken it out for ‘extra precautions’. Fire safety be damned.

He is not shocked when it takes a few more moments for anyone to notice his presence in their daze.

“Wooaahh, Marco man, your grumpy roommate is here.” Connie looks up, continuing to chew loudly while Sasha lays back on the floor now, possibly in a food coma.

Marco sits up in his bed and smiles warmly at him.

“Hey! You weren’t here when I got back from class so I invited some of the gang over. I believe you’ve met everyone here.”

“Yeah, I can see that and I have.” Jean’s voice is monotone and he is sure that his expression is anything but pleased but everyone was definitely far too gone to care or notice.

“Move over.” Jean drops to his knees and nudges Sasha to scoot over a bit so that he can have access to the bong beside Connie. 

She groans in protest before slowly rolling over and reaching across the floor for another bag of chips.

Picking up the bong and a lighter, he tells himself that weed is practically a fake drug and it is technically legal for use where they are living. He was almost positive that they would believe his ‘innocence’ in awareness if a piss test came back positive for THC but either way he couldn't care less. 

He brings the bong to his lips and lights the bowl gingerly, earning a sudden audience of eyes on him as the water softly bubbles and he pulls the slide back, taking in all of the smoke and slowly exhaling a cloud into the air. 

He sighs and sets the bong back beside Connie who gives him a quick eager clap before gorging on a newfound snack and he notices Mikasa and Armin staring for a moment before returning their gaze to their current activities. 

“So where were you?” Marco lays back down on his side and watches Jean curiously.

“Jesus, I was at the damn store, okay? Why do you insist on being up my ass?” Jean grumbles, not even meaning to sound so agitated at his roommate. He was just so tired and NA was one of the last things he wanted to talk about or share.

Marco simply frowns slightly and rests his hands behind his head, turning his view to the ceiling. 

The room grows fairly quiet for a few moments before Mikasa speaks up. 

“That was an awfully long time to be at the store.”

Silence again.

“So uh, anyways, on that note— didn’t we have something we were all supposed to go to?” Christa perks up this time.

“What thing?” Sasha looks over from her grave on the floor.

“Yeah, y’know. That thing we have to go to.” Armin looks over awkwardly at the group and stands up with Christa at his side.

“Guys, are you all like— wicked baked or something, cause I’m pretty sure we don’t have a thing.” Connie stares at them in deadpan confusion but Mikasa stands up, closes her book and heads over to him and Sasha, kicking the girl gently in the side.

“Yes, they’re right. We do have a thing. We were going to go watch Reiner and Bertolt do a porno. Eren is likely waiting for us.”

“Uhhhh, I seriously think I would have remembered that.” Connie shakes his head but follows the group to the door anyhow.

“I am confused and yet so intrigued.” Sasha reaches her hand out for Connie to help pull her to her feet. As they all exit the room they say quiet goodbyes to Marco.

Jean sits on the floor quietly for some time before he feels too antsy to let the silence continue.

“Sorry… Rough day.”

“S’okay. You seem to have a lot of those.” Marco’s voice is soft and understanding. 

Didn’t he ever get upset?

“Yeah…” Jean rubs his face anxiously before rising to his feet and moving over to his side of the room, flopping down onto his bed.

Everything feels so heavy and he finds it extremely hard to keep his eyes open. He stares across the room at Marco who just stares back with a sympathetic look on his face.

“Sleep well, Jean.” Is the last thing he hears before everything goes black and he drifts into a deep sleep.


	4. Trust

When Jean awoke in the morning he is pleasantly surprised to receive the announcement from Marco that classes have been canceled for the rest of the week due to some sort of incident on campus. But then he is soon irritated that he was woken up early for absolutely nothing.

“So you’re saying that you’d have rather me let you sleep in late if there was a class?” Marco rolls his eyes in amusement as he watches Jean from his seat on the couch.

“I’m saying that since there is no class now and thus this hypothetical situation in which I could have been late does not exist, there was absolutely no reason to wake me. When I woke up on my own time would’ve been when you should have let me know that classes have been canceled.” Jean grumbles tiredly. He is still laying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling blankly.

“Well, you can always go back to sleep.” Marco shrugs lightly.

“Only I really can’t…” Jean sighs and pulls the blanket over his face, wishing so desperately that it was as easy as that.

“I’m sorry Jean, honest. How can I make it up to you?”

“Jesus, by staying quiet so that I can at least try for the next 10 minutes before giving up is a start.”

“Look, how about we do something today instead? Your choice again.” Marco suggests, his tone friendly.

Jean stays quiet for a long while, contemplating what the perks of this could mean for him. He eventually pulls the blanket from his face and looks over at the boy on the couch. 

“Alright… But just remember that it was your idea to let me come up with the idea. Lemme get dressed and we’ll head out. Be ready.”

“Alright, don’t worry! I’ll be ready.” Marco smiles characteristically and Jean stares at him a few moments longer before moving to get himself dressed and prepared.

—

It isn’t too much later that they are walking along the outskirts of the town.

Jean somewhat relishes in the quiet tone of the morning and the cool breeze in his hair.

He puffs on his cigarette every minute or so and occasionally glances back at Marco who seems fairly content for the time being. 

They have almost reached the edge of town when Jean changes the course of direction that they are heading and Marcos speaks up.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Jean begins to pick up his pace, dropping his cigarette on the sidewalk which Marco quickly steps on before picking up and following after.

Jean turns again down a smaller road that leads to a dead end with a patch of woods towards the back.

He runs now, his feet hitting the pavement loudly before his steps are muffled as grass comes underfoot.

Marco struggles to catch up as he chases Jean through the small break of forest.

“Wait! Jean, what’re we doing?” Marco calls out breathlessly and Jean looks over his shoulder towards him with a grin.

“Something spontaneous!” 

As he stops on the other side of the trees, there is a loud horn that blares through the air.

Marco stops beside him and hunches over as he struggles to catch his breath.

They both look up to watch as a train slowly makes its way over the tracks ahead of them. It is beginning to pick up speed from the station it had departed from not too much farther down the way.

“C’mon!” Jean urges as he dashes over to one of the open boxcars.

He pulls himself up with ease, thankful that they made it in time and that the train was not moving too fast at this point.

“Jean, what exactly is the plan here?” Marco shuffles around, uncertainty in his eyes as he slowly begins to walk alongside the moving car.

“Just trust me. ‘Kay?” Jean extends a hand out to Marco but the boy still does not oblige and merely stares back. He looks uncomfortable as he walks alongside the train and Jean gives the most reassuring smile that he can muster.

“Please?”

It’s a few more moments before Marco finally takes his hand and allows for Jean to pull him up beside him.

Marco returns his smile and they stand in the opening of the boxcar, watching as the world picks up speed and the trees around them become blurred and indistinguishable.

—

Some time had gone by and they were now sitting against the wall of the small car, conversing and taking in the scenery of the outside world when they could.

“So, tell me something about you.”

“What more is there to know?” Jean crosses his legs and shrugs slightly. He didn’t understand why Marco was so curious about his life.

“What are you talking about? I feel like I barely know anything about you!“ Marco rolls his eyes and stares at Jean. 

“Good Lord, what do you want to know?” Jean sighs unenthusiastically. He does not enjoy talking about his personal life and it was something he definitely did not want to share with Marco.

Marco would likely find out most if not some of the cringe details of his life at some point and push Jean away. And seeing as they were trapped in this small space together at the moment, now was certainly not the best time for that.

“Anything. Can be small things if you want? Like, what are the little details that no one else knows or asks about?”

“I don’t know…” 

And he really didn’t. 

He didn’t have friends or lovers or anything of that matter and he hadn’t in quite a few years now. Besides Marco, the closest thing he has to acquaintances are his drug friends and he hasn’t seen much of them in the past few weeks. Even so, they never spoke about topics like this. And if he was being honest, they didn’t really speak to one another much at all.

He supposes that no one truly knows anything about him and no one ever asks.

“Okay, I'll start with something I've been dying to know. Is that your natural hair color?”

Jean sighs in a defeated manner, knowing that Marco would ask a basic question as that at some point.

“Yeah, it is. And yes, all of my piercings and tattoos hurt at least a little. I literally had needles shoved into my body or poked into my skin.”

“The tongue ring must have hurt quite a bit then.” Marco notes, eyeing Jean carefully.

“Nah.” Jean sticks out his tongue slightly, letting Marco have a better view at the silver bar and ball in the center. “It wasn’t that bad. The healing process was a bitch though.” He swipes his tongue along the edge of his top teeth, letting the ball make a gentle clacking noise as it went.

Marco continues to watch him and Jean suddenly feels a tad self conscious but can’t identify why.

“Um— I uh… I love liquor but I actually really enjoy a red wine with one of those charcuterie boards.”

“That is a pretty random thing about you.” Marco laughs softly, purely teasing him. “Charcuterie boards?”

“Yeah, my mom is into those kinds of things.” Jean chuckles slightly, shrugging his shoulders. “The options are practically endless, and don’t get me started on all of the fancy cheeses.”

“ Speaking of dairy, do you like yogurt? There’s this new frozen yogurt place that just opened up and I’ve been meaning to check it out if you want to go with me sometime?“ Marco tilts his head slightly and fiddles with his fingers while waiting for a reply.

“Yeah… Sure. I’ve never really had frozen yogurt, so if it sucks I’m blaming it on you” 

Marco laughs and swears to him that there is nothing not to like before he lays down on his back and stares at the ceiling.

There is a bit of a silence before Jean finds something to say again.

“I actually really hate school, if you couldn’t tell that before. I was really hoping that when I got in trouble that they would just expell me and be done with it.   
But, you know, I’m not surprised since it was somewhat due to parent intervention and all. It’s not like I'm an adult or anything and that actions have consequences. Not that I’m good at being an adult or whatever.”

“Well, then I hope you don’t hate being my roommate as much as I believe you do. I’m not trying to make your forced to stay at college any worse than it already is going for you…” 

The words are quiet and a big surprise to Jean. He was not expecting Marco to voice this concern, let alone to feel it at all.

“Marco, look… You’re not half bad. Don’t take the shit I say all too seriously. I just—… I don’t know. but if I didn’t like you, trust me, I would have continued to ignore you and we would not be here together right now having this conversation.”

This makes Marco smile a bit, and while he doesn’t sit up to look at Jean, Jean can see that he is visually reassured as he replies with an, “Okay”.

They sit in quiet tranquility as time passes by and the morning quickly turns into the afternoon.

The air inside the box car grows chillier and it does not help that they have been sitting practically in the open for so long.

“ I hate to ask you again, but what is the plan from here?“

“ I was thinking that we hop off at the next town and make a day of it there. Fuck around, maybe stay the night somewhere and then head back home tomorrow?“

Marco seems to think on that for a few moments before he nods with a smile.

They ride the train together for a while longer, staring out at hills and the open horizon stretched out before them. Eventually the trees begin to thin out and the forest around them becomes less dense. 

Jean stands up and places his hand on the inner wall of the rusty boxcar. 

“I think our stop is coming up pretty soon.”

Marco nods at this and rises to his own feet, peering carefully outside the opening, the wind ruffling his dark hair.

Jean watches him before stepping over to his side himself, eyeing their surroundings as landmarks rise up in the near distance. 

“The train should slow down in only a matter of time now. Once that happens, get ready to jump.”

“Right.” Marco nods again and they wait patiently with one another as the minutes go by and the outskirts of a city break into view.

There is a loud blaring as the horn sounds and the train begins to lurch and screech as it prepares to slow down along the track.

Marco looks at Jean with a look of precaution, almost unsure now as to whether it was a good idea to jump from the moving car.

“Trust me. Okay?” 

The words slip from Jean’s mouth easily. 

Marco stares back at Jean, his eyes almost daring to dart back to the open world around them.

The air is cold and it feels as though it is forcibly tugging them out.

After what feels like a lifetime of waiting, Marco smiles warmly at Jean and reaches out a hand to him.

Jean eyes his hand for a few moments before gingerly taking it in his own. By now the train is at a much slower speed and they nod at each other before bracing themselves and jumping out into the grassy patch before them. 

Jean lands on his feet but quickly staggers to his knees, letting go of Marco’s grasp as he lands right beside him.

He takes a couple of breaths before pulling himself up and dusting the debris off of his clothing.

“You alright?” He turns to Marco who is rising to his own feet and seemingly coming to his senses.

“Yes. I’m fine.” He sighs softly and runs a hand through his hair, looking to Jean with a grin.

“Thank you.”

Jean huffs slightly and offers a grin in return before making sure he didn’t lose any of his belongings in the jump. He then walks slowly alongside the train tracks, watching as it roars ahead into the distance.

Marco follows beside him, staring ahead at the upcoming city a few miles in front of them.

—-

“I think this city is called Karanes or something. I’ve heard it’s pretty busy around here.” Jean muses as he and Marco walk down a bustling sidewalk. “Let me know if anything catches your eye.”

Jean looks back at Marco who nods and scans their following surroundings as they try not to bump into anyone.

Jean walks idly, his hands in his pockets as he lazily notes the restaurants and cafés they pass by. There are a lot of opportunities for shopping around here but truthly none of these things interest him.

Where are the bars? The entertainment?

“Jean! I have an amazing idea!” Marco suddenly books it forward, leaving Jean stumbling a bit in surprise.

“Hey— wait” Jean runs to catch up to him, curving to pass by those in his way while struggling to keep Marco in sight. 

“Damnit Marco, what the hell is happening?” He mutters under his breath as he spots Marco up ahead, standing outside a building and waving his hands with an ecstatic smile as he catches sight of Jean.

“What the hell was that about?” Jean sputters as he stops to catch his breath beside the freckled bastard.

“Look!” Marco grins excitedly as he points to the dangling sign in front of the glass window of the small building in front of them.

“. . . You’re kidding. I know I’m all for spontaneous and impulsive ideas, but this is really something that typically needs to be thought through.” Jean crosses his arms and rolls his eyes.

“Psshh, It’ll be fine, Jean! Trust me.” 

He gives a cheeky smile and Jean has to look away, grumbling to himself as Marco laughs and enters the building, leaving Jean with no choice but to follow behind him.

“Welcome! Can I help you boys with anything?” Comes the voice of an over friendly woman standing behind the counter in the center of the room.

“No no, we’re just looking.” Jean motions and shoots Marco an irritated look.

“We’ll let you know if we need any help.” Marco smiles and drips his head in a friendly gesture before heading across the room and into a large open hallway.

Jean grumbles to himself but follows anyhow, not really paying attention to detail or his surroundings.

The air smells musty and once they make their way down the hallway and into a more open space the building comes alive with the sound of barking and claws scraping against hardwood.

“Jean, look at this one!” Marco moves over to one of the many large cages in the room and squats down to eagerly ‘awe’ and ‘coo’ at one of the dogs amongst many in the shelter.

Jean sighs heavily before following him over to see a gigantic bear of a dog— brown, slobbery and pawing excitedly at the wires separating them. 

Jean says nothing as he watches Marco move from dog to dog, happily speaking with them and gently petting those that came close enough to the barrier.

Truthfully, there was no harm in them just looking through the poor mutts and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing Marco get so happy over something so simple.

It was a weird feeling.

“Jean, we have to take this one with us.” Marco looks over at him with pleading eyes from where he is seated at another dull cage.

“Marco, we can’t hide a dog at the campus.” Jean sighs and scratches the back of his head.

He steps over and peers at the pathetic creature whose nose is pressed up along the wires.

“It says that her name is Maria and when she arrived here she was with her two sisters, Rose and Sheena, but they sadly passed away and now she’s all that’s left. We can’t leave her here. Look at how sweet she is.” Marco pleads, petting what he can of the dog from the other side of the cage.

She looks like some sort of German Shepherd mix. Maybe she was purebred— Jean did not know too much about dogs.

“Marco, look, this is definitely the kind of trouble that I love to get into but we literally can not hide this giant dog. This doesn’t just affect us, it affects her as well. She deserves someone that can most definitely take care of her and doesn’t risk the chance of having to bring her back to a shelter.”

Marco stares at him for a few moments longer before sighing and looking back to Maria sadly.

“You’re right… Someone out there will adopt and cherish you.” He sighs again before rising to his feet, looking away as the dog wags its tail expectantly, practically begging for them to take her.

“We have to go Jean, before I change my mind and try to bust all of the dogs out of here.”

Jean nods slightly and leads the way back up the hallway with Marco trailing slowly behind him.

When Jean reaches the door, he turns to see Marco speaking softly with the woman at the counter who smiles and dips her head to him before Marco quickly catches up with Jean as they make their exit.

He doesn’t say anything about the short encounter and simply figures that he was thanking her for their time there.

They walk aimlessly down the street now, passing store after store and person after person. 

The sky is darkening and the air becomes chillier, making it apparent that Winter may come early this year.

“I’m starving. I almost forgot that I haven’t eaten since this morning.” Marco mumbles slightly and it takes Jean a few moments to realize that he hadn’t eaten since the day prior.

He oftentimes forgets to eat and doesn’t even notice the burning sensation in his stomach anymore.

“Right. Maybe we should call it a day— find a hotel and order some room service. Maybe they’ll even have a bar.” 

“Okay, but when we said we’d stay the night here, we definitely did not think the whole money part through.” 

“No worries. I’ve got it covered.” Jean slows his pace and eyes the area for any sight of somewhere they could easily stay the night. 

The city is quite big so it does not take long for him to spot a sign for a hotel only a few blocks away.

They make their way towards where they would be staying for the night and Jean internally sighs at the welcome sight of what appears to be a decent looking hotel.

They walk through the doors casually, Jean’s teeth chattering a bit at this point and he hears Marco sigh once they are inside, likely at the warmth that encompasses them upon entering.

Jean waltzes up to the counter and speaks with the attendee, purchasing a room for the night and receiving a card key in exchange.

He knows Marco is a tad confused as he follows him inside the elevator so Jean whips out a blue credit card to appease his curiosity.

“Mom doesn’t trust me all too much, but that lack of trust is for good reason as I am constantly getting into trouble. So I’ve got a decent amount of credit in case of situations similar to this. Y’know, getting stuck in an unknown town on some sort of bender without a clue as how to leave.”

“I see. She won’t be mad at you using it now though?” 

“She needn’t know the truth. And if she did there are much worse things to be spending inheritance and trust fund money on in her eyes.” Jean shrugs as he shoves the card back into his wallet.

When the doors open again they make their way down the red carpeted hallway to find what room they would be lodging in.

It doesn’t take long to find their assigned number and Jean opens the door somewhat tentatively before grinning at the inner commodities of their shared living space.

It was simple and yet well taken care of. There is a large city view from the window and the room itself is quite spacious. There is a bottle of champagne on the table, along with a variety of sweets and snacks.

The room has clearly recently been done up, the air smelling cleanly and of essential oils. 

The one bed in the room looks plump and comfortable, but so did the couch and Jean figures he would take that for himself. It would have been more of a waste to get themselves a room with two beds though he figures he’ll have to insist to Marco that he was fine with taking the couch.

Marco looks around the room with a small smile, taking everything in slowly and appreciatively.

“The guy at the desk told me they have an open bar here so I figure we should hit that after we get something to eat up here.” Jean drops his sweatshirt to the floor and plops down onto the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and pulling over the menu that was perched there.

Marco takes off his coat and hangs it on the hook by the door while kicking off his shoes and moving over to sit beside Jean.

“Not to sound difficult, but I do enjoy bar food and I know that if I’m drunk I’ll likely want to eat while we’re down there as well, so…” Marco chuckles slightly, watching as Jean sets the menu back down and shrugs.

“Sure, if you’d rather get something to eat down there that’s fine with me.”

“Okay! I’m just going to freshen up in the restroom then.” Marco stands up and walks over to the large bathroom in the room that Jean had passed by without even noting.

“Just be quick, I didn’t realize that I was withering away over here.” Jean calls out, resting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

It isn’t long before Marco comes back out, seemingly ready to head out and Jean stands up, searching around for the wallet he had lost in the couch already while Marco pulls his shoes back on.

Once he finds it they leave the room, heading back to the elevator and exiting on the floor where this supposed bar was stationed.

The elevator opened up to a small and narrow hallway with a door at the end.

Jean could hear muffled music behind the door and he huffed as they made their way closer to the noise.

“Hell, is there a whole club in there?” He jokes, looking over his shoulder at Marco who only smiles and shrugs slightly in return. 

When he opens the door he was definitely not expecting for there to literally be an entire dance club bellowing out before them. It was like some underground venue or something with flashing LEDS, a raging bass system and DJ with people dancing everywhere. Drinks were being passed out all around at the bar in the center of the event and few others were seated at small tables, dining away.

“Yeah, that guy totally did not let in on what kind of bar this is.” Jean snorts and turns to Marco expectantly.

“Is this alright?”

“You should see some of the parties my friends and I go to. This is nothing.” Marco laughs and steps out in front of Jean before stopping and turning to look at him. He puts out a hand again and Jean thinks back to earlier in the day when they were on the train and Jean wanted nothing more than for Marco to trust him at that moment. 

“Is this okay for you though?”

Jean looks around the room, taking in everything slowly before meeting his eyes back to Marco’s.

He notes the freckles on his face as always and searches his brown eyes for any intentions but finds nothing there but an eager friendliness and genuinity. 

“Yeah. This is fine.” 

Jean takes his hand and offers a small smile of his own to which Marco reciprocates before pulling himself into the endless crowd of people.


End file.
